Many of my masochistically-inclined clients have expressed a desire at some point in our journey together to be able to take more pain or a heavier beating for me. To those clients, I’ve always replied that it’s not the intensity of the beating that makes the experience pleasurable for me, but rather the journey itself. Last Friday I found out just what it was like to play with someone who could take far more than I was accustomed to giving.
I had my first session with J, a masochist whose pain tolerance was in full complement to my sadism. I’ve never played with someone who could take my heaviest strokes, my most brutal whips, my most intense caning (including a blizzard from my rawhide cane and a relentless thumping with two fierce nylon dowel canes he brought for his own torture … and left one, the worst, as a gift to me. Have you ever been hit with a 3/8″ in. nylon cane? OW!). I’d bring up a blood blister on his ass with one throw of my singletail and pop it with the next and he’d say, comfortably, “Mmm. Hurst so good.” Wild.
Typically when I do corporal, it’s sensation driven, not pain driven. I don’t mean there’s no pain. It hurts. A lot. I’ll bring you to tears. Break you. Whatever. But I’m in full control of what I’m doing and I measure out the doses carefully, guiding you through the experience. I hold myself back, but my body just hums with that energy, that unleashed potential. I’m like a Lamborghini on I-95 around Delaware, feeling my power capabilities but aware of all the speed traps. With J, it was pedal to the metal. Autobahn. Rather than all that energy humming in me, I was letting it out. I told him I felt … efficient. There was focus. Intensity. Intention. But I was cool. Like, my blood normally runs pretty hot during corporal scenes but Friday night, my hands had almost a chill. I talked.(!) I joked. And I hit him with my single tail and those canes and metal chains longer and harder than I’ve ever hit anyone in my life. I don’t think I even broke a sweat. Though by the end, I was breathless.
We definitely had a good time. In his post-session feedback he wrote:
Friday’s session was not the most severe I have taken, it was by a very wide margin the most interesting and exciting I’ve ever experienced. Normally, when the caning starts, or is about to start, my erection wilts (maybe it’s some kind of conditioned response) but it’s a tribute to your talent and sexiness that it stood proud through some of the worst of the punishment. You are an enchantress… besides being a skillful and accomplised domme, and as I said on Friday night, I think you’re a highly evolved being. I was sorry when my wristwatch said it was past time to go.
I’m looking forward to seeing him again. Gonna hafta make his cock go down next time. Thanks, J, for taking it all.